Grace Notes
by gythia
Summary: What happens after The Final Iteration. If you're a fan of my Sith series, this is what you've been waiting for! Drama, lightsaber fighting. All your favorite original characters. Luke's dark secret is finally revealed! Time Yarns crossover.
1. Chapter 1

Grace Notes

This is a sequel to The Final Iteration.

Chronology of my Sith series:

Planet of the Sith:

(7 years post founding of the Jedi Academy)

Subcasters:

(post discovery of the Fallanassi)

Queen of the Sith:

1 (pre Vong War) Return to the Planet of the Sith

2 (during the Vong War) Queen of the Sith

3 (post Vong War) Sith Vs Sith

The Final Iteration:

(a time travel story, chronology is meaningless)

Grace Notes:

(Post death of Darth Caedus.)

Grace Notes

Chapter 1

"You're him, aren't you?" Ongreya asked. "The time lord."

Luke—Lord Luke, but in his new body-- blinked at the bare wall in his office. Ongreya wasn't here yet. What the heck had that been? It wasn't time travel. If it had been, it would have erased his memories again.

The door chime sounded. Such a prosaic thing to have in the Jedi Temple, a door chime. They ought to have a gong, or a young Padawan who went around announcing things in a serious young voice, or they should announce themselves in the Force via telepathy, or something. Luke shook his head; he was trying to UN-grandiose the Jedi, not make them even more full of themselves. "Come in."

Prudently, since he knew he was about to say yes to a very damaging question, he reached out with the Noble Gift and turned off Ongreya's subcasting hat as she walked in the door.

Ongreya's hat made its warning sound, letting her know she was off the air.

"Don't bother trying to fix it," Luke said.

"Ah. Of course. Learned better, have you?"

Luke gestured her to sit. She took a seat on the very plain metal chair in front of his utilitarian desk. Given what the rest of the Jedi Temple looked like, his choice of furniture seemed aggressively military, which was really not his intention. He had been going for simple. Monk-like.

"Well, the other you delivered as promised," Ongreya said. "He said you'd let me back into the Order, and the confirmation arrived as soon as the jump-mail caught up with me. The Jedi Order could get on the Hobgoblin, you know. Join the new millennium."

Luke smiled softly. "Just what we need around here. Another new technology."

"I hear you're embracing a certain old technology. Everybody's talking about the Test."

Luke made a face. "The deliberations of the Masters' Council are supposed to be confidential until we've made a decision."

Ongreya waved a dismissive green hand; she was in her natural form, as she knew Luke had always preferred. "Nobody keeps secrets from me, darling. Er, Grand Master."

Luke chuckled a little. "Titles," he said derisively.

"Well, you've certainly had enough of them," Ongreya probed, her eyes twinkling a little as she realized she was near something important.

"That's for sure," Luke agreed. "Look, Ongreya, I know what you're getting at. You want to know which me I am."

"Certainly. Though," she pointed at her hat and shrugged, indicating she would rather put whatever he was about to reveal into her subcast than keep it to herself.

"Over my dead body," Luke said, and he was not smiling at all.

"Oh," she said. "You're him. The time lord."

"Yes," Luke said. "I'm both of us. We're both in here. One being, one flesh, one soul. Just a bigger soul than either of us started out with."

"That's the secret of your immortality."

"Yes, it is. And if you tell anybody, I will kill you. Do we understand each other?"

"Ah. Yes. I believe so." Ongreya did not look at all perturbed by this idea. She was leaning forward, looking intrigued and pleased.

"I mean it."

"I know you mean it, Luke. But I am a Psy-Healer. The condition you describe is absolutely normal to my people, though I've never heard of a human doing it."

"What?" Luke asked, blinking in startlement.

"We call it skin-sharing. It's the way an elderly Healer teaches his apprentice if he dies before his training is complete. Your Master Obi-Wan spoke to you after his death, did he not?"

"Well, yes. But this isn't exactly the same thing."

"Close enough." Ongreya somehow managed a human shrug without moving her head, a practiced habit she continued despite her subcasting hat not working right then. "The only interest I would have in revealing this would be if I could keep my subscribers, and their purses, glued to their holonet tranceivers with it. Otherwise it is totally a non issue to me."

"Wow. That's not what I was expecting."

"You think I care if you are a Sith Lord? I saw what you did for Piekke. Saving her from the Dark Side. If that's the action of a Sith, then we could do with a few more Sith in the Jedi Order."

"Yeah, well, don't say that too loudly around here." Luke's extremely expressive voice conjured up images of fingers pointing, people running, and lightsabers being pulled.

Ongreya snorted an approximation of a human laugh. "I'm not afraid of the Test. I expect you might be, though. So why did you agree to have it instituted?"

"I haven't, yet. The Council is still debating."

"You're afraid to reveal your own misgivings, for fear they'll suspect who you really are."

As he had done increasingly lately, Luke stared off into space, having a vision. But just like the vision he had had of Ongreya's question to him, it did not just play in front of him like a holodrama, it seemed like he was really there, as if he were time traveling.

He was in the Master's Council room, the big round room with the transparisteel windows with a grand view of Coruscant's traffic patterns outside. It was broad daylight, with warm, yellow afternoon sunlight bathing the room in a cheery golden glow. In that sort of light, horrors seemed even more horrible for the irony.

He was fighting. Lightsabers clashed again and again, humming, sparking, their sweeping, spitting light so intense it outshone the sun. Luke leapt, spun, kicked, played every trick he had—and it wasn't enough.

He ended turning over and over in air and tumbling around on the floor at an impossible angle, staring up at his headless body toppling over and hitting the floor beside him.

He came back to himself with a start. Wide-eyed, Luke whispered, "Yes. I fear that."


	2. Chapter 2

Grace Notes

Chapter 2

After Ongreya left, Luke settled down in his chair and pursued a fuller version of the vision he had just had. He wasn't supposed to die that way. In his vision on the abandoned planet, he had foreseen himself passing peacefully. Of course, this time the Test would not be a surprise to him. When the young Jedi who had found the testing device had brought it to the Masters' Council, Luke had been expecting it. So, he had changed something.

Luke closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. That was all it took. He was very practiced at having visions, now.

He was in the Masters' Council room, alone. Jaina entered, looking rather haunted. But that was her usual expression, in these days after the death of Darth Caedus.

"Jaina," Luke said. "I suppose I should have expected that."

"The Masters are concerned about you. You told them you kept checking out and staring off into space in the middle of meetings because you were using visions to help stop Caedus, but he's gone and you're still doing it. You're not all there a lot, and it's worrying them."

"Come on, Jaina. Be honest. They're worried about a lot more than that."

"Like what?" she asked.

"Look. They sent you. The Sword of the Jedi. You are message."

"They sent me because I'm the new guy."

Luke raised his brows. "They elevated you to Master? They met without even telling me, and did something that important? I would have supported you, you know. But they don't trust me anymore."

"It's not that they don't trust you, Uncle Luke." Jaina walked closer, and Luke had to invoke discipline to keep himself from backing up. Luke knew what Jaina was here to do, even if Jaina herself seemed not to know. "They're just concerned. And you haven't been speaking or voting at meetings lately anyway."

"Except when I said the Test would tear the Order apart. They didn't want to hear that," Luke said quietly.

"This isn't supposed to be a witch hunt," Jaina said.

"I know, I know. Those who fail are to be given a mentor, or a peer counselor if they are themselves a Master. Given a chance to come back to the Order. To the Light. Gently steered. Do you see any gentle steering going on, Jaina?"

"Well, no. But nobody has failed."

"Is that what you think? They didn't even tell you why they sent you here? A strange way to tell a new Master she needs to learn four difficult new powers. But then, they wouldn't know about that part themselves, would they?"

"Someone failed?" Jaina asked. "And you're supposed to teach me new powers? So I can go kill someone? I'm not Piekke. I don't want to be the Order's executioner."

"But you are, like it or not. You've proven you can get the job done, and not let anything get in your way. Not love, not attachment, not even compassion. Certainly not mercy. You're the perfect candidate. No one else will do. Now, this must be kept confidential," Luke said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

Jaina unconsciously moved closer to hear him better.

Luke suppressed a satisfied smile. He was turning this around nicely. "To become powerful enough to destroy the next Sith Lord, you must learn four powers that no Jedi has. The Noble Gift, the Art of Illusion, the power of Darth Plagus the Wise to manipulate the stuff of life—that may be the most important one, it's the one that allows you to increase your own potential in the Force – and the power to control time."

"Those are Sith powers," Jaina observed.

"Yes."

"How can you teach me powers you don't have?"

"I do have them."

Jaina was silent for a moment. "You're the one who failed," she concluded. Her hand moved just a little, as if contemplating going for her lightsaber. "Did you just ask me to become your Sith apprentice?"

"You must, if you wish to become powerful enough to destroy me," Luke said quietly.

"Isn't that the old story of the Sith? The apprentice betrays the Master?"

"I'm not that kind of Sith. I'm not like Caedus, Jaina. I'm not from the debased tradition. I have no wish to rule the galaxy. I only had to convince myself that I did."

"What? You lost me there."

"Jaina. You know I was directing Caedus's visions. Making him obsessed with me, so he would ignore you, and you could succeed against him."

"Yes," she said, the 'and, so' apparent in the way she drew out the word.

"I was showing Caedus visions of me ruling his galaxy, sitting on his throne. To make those visions real to him, they had to be real. Visions of a real future. I could never have fooled him with a lie. I've been living in that future." Which was as close as Luke was going to get to admitting what he had been doing to the poor abused timeline.

"Living the life of a galaxy-ruling Dark Lord," Jaina interpreted. "But the war against Caedus is over now. You can come back."

"It's not that easy," Luke said. "Did you just, snap, come back from the things you had to do to win this war? Don't you feel tainted by what you've done? Do you think you'd pass the test if you took it?"

Jaina turned away, but only for a second. Then she sighted back on him like a Sith-seeking missile, on her guard again. "If you want to come back, why would I need to learn enough to kill you?"

"Just in case," Luke said, his tone rising a little. "For peace of mind. Mine, yours, the Councils'."

"You would tell the Council what powers you have? That you're a Sith of the mercenary tradition?"

"Hardly. I would tell them I'm training you with new powers."

"How did this happen, anyway? We've all seen the Piekke footage," Jaina stiffened for a moment, perhaps suppressing a shudder. "But that was a trick, something she did to you to hurt you emotionally. You don't actually have Sith tattoos. You didn't really go through the ceremony. Did you?"

"Not then, no. It was ages ago, Jaina," Luke sighed. "The Queen wasn't even the Queen yet." Luke told her the short and very distorted version. "I was kidnapped, drugged, held prisoner, repeatedly shocked with Force-lightning, and mind-invaded. I went through the initiation sequence strapped down to a table aboard Sith Raider, held in a suppression field. It was not by my choice. But it was a real initiation, with all the elements minus the tattoos. So, by their standards, yes, I am a Sith, and I have been all through the years that you've been a Jedi."

"Oh. Then you're not … really… But what about the powers?"

"The powers developed later."

"Later, recently," Jaina interpreted. She stepped still closer, looking at up at him with wide, empathetic eyes. "You developed them so you could convince Caedus what a badass Sith Lord you were."

"Well…" Luke was trying so hard to come up with a way to explain everything, responding to the inviting, open expression on her face, that he almost did not respond in time when she made her move.

By this time Jaina was standing within grabbing distance. Instead of going for her own lightsaber, she made a move on Luke's. It was in her hand and activated before he realized she was attacking.

The green glow reflected in her still-wide eyes as she thumbed the activation button while it was still clearing his belt, and Luke had to move his leg back in desperate haste to keep from losing another limb.

He grabbed her arm, hoping to wrestle back the sword, and Jaina grabbed him back, by the front of his Jedi robe, pulled him forward onto his own blade.

Luke Force-pushed her away, and in the clearing distance, Jaina pulled her own lightsaber in her other hand. She wheeled them in an X pattern and came at Luke with that relentless Mandalorian look in her eye. The look she had worn when she killed her brother.

But Luke laughed. He was still Lord Luke, after all, and he was powerful beyond the dreams of Palpatine or Bane or even Exar Kun. For he was the lord of time.

He froze the battle. Jaina stopped moving with one foot slightly off the ground, like a still holograph come to life. She was not breathing, and her brown hair floated behind her, stiff and unmoving.

At his leisure, Luke considered what he might do. Drain the lightsabers' batteries with the Noble Gift? Why bother? He simply reached out and plucked them from her grip. Now he was the one with a lightsaber in each hand.

He walked slowly around her, and positioned himself behind her. He could kill her easily, but that was not his intention. Not yet. Not until he had no other choice, because Jaina was perfect.

She had done what had to be done with Caedus, certainly. But Caedus had been Jacen, her twin brother. She had trained for and planned his death for months, hunted him down and killed him while he begged for time to save his daughter. That was cold blooded murder, no matter how necessary, and it had opened Jaina to the Dark Side.

She was easily Jacen's match in potential, of course. And she knew she was tainted, and the thought poisoned her, slowed her recovery, even filled her with helpless rage at the unfairness of the universe at times. Not that she would admit that to anyone, but Luke could feel it nonetheless.

Jaina was dark-cracked and full of power and anger, and self-righteousness. She was ripe for breakthrough. Luke expected her to break out with Force-lightning at any moment. And that would be his first gift to her. The first of the four powers he would cause her to develop. Her training had already begun.

Luke carefully wrapped his arms around her from behind, crossing both activated lightsabers in front of her face, green and purple like some demented holiday decoration.

He let time run again.

Jaina reacted to the parody of a hug with a start and a small cry, but then stilled, realizing that trying to break out of it would force her onto the glowing blades. She was so close to them, she could feel the heat against her skin through her Jedi uniform.

"Good, good," Luke whispered. "I can feel your anger. Go with it, Jaina. Don't you feel the sparks crackling in your hands? No one has ever achieved breakthrough except in the Dark Side. Let go. Just for a moment. You have the power to break this stalement. Take these weapons from me with the power of the Noble Gift. Short them out. Fight me lightning to lightning and Lady to Lord."

"I'll never join the Dark Side!" Jaina growled.

She raised her arms under his arms, forcing the sabers in his grip up. It was an unexpected move simply because she had to force the laser blades right through her own shoulders to make it work. But Jaina did whatever had to be done to kill Sith Lords, whatever the cost to herself.

Screaming, Jaina grabbed the lightsabers with Force telekinesis and jammed them down behind her without looking.

She heard a surprised gurgling sound. A tiny little exhalation like the mew of a some small furred baby animal from the jungles of Yavin 4—the sound reminded her strongly of Jacen, when he was young and innocent and had a room full of pets.

Then there was the sound of a body hitting the floor.

Luke's last coherent thought was, I was wrong. She didn't need any extra powers after all.

Then he came awake in his office, wincing with the pain of wounds that had not yet happened. He rubbed his face.

"Clearly the wrong approach," Luke whispered. "That's a mistake I won't make… once."


	3. Chapter 3

Grace Notes

Chapter 3

Luke tried not to fidget. A couple of times he caught himself drumming his fingers on his chair nervously while Kyp was speaking, and stuck his fingers under his legs to keep them still.

Master Kyp Durron finished up his speech to the Masters' Council. "Restoring public confidence in the Jedi Order by being seen to have a plan to prevent the next Caedus is just as important as actually having such a plan. This simple test will help us do both of those things. It will help us identify problems while they're still small and solvable."

Kyp kept glancing at Luke, perhaps surprised that Luke was giving him his undivided attention. Starting during the war against Caedus, Luke had taken to standing facing away from the Council and listening and speaking without looking at anyone, having visions.

Kyp continued, "On a personal note, I'd like to point out that back during the first reconstruction of Coruscant, after the war against the Empire, when the Order first rediscovered these devices, if we had known what red and blue meant at the time, maybe my own error could have been identified and dealt with, and I might never have served Exar Kun. Preventing that would have been a great good. So I support the Test."

"Dealt with how?" asked Luke quietly. "That's the problem. If we were only talking about helping people get back on the right path, I would support it, too. But we're talking about preventing the rise of the next Darth Caedus, which means we're ultimately talking about killing people. I think people should be judged by their actions. Not a color code on a machine that the Empire developed to help it hunt down and kill Jedi who survived Order 66. And I still believe that almost everyone is redeemable. Caedus wasn't, and Palpatine wasn't, but I would be dead today if Vader had not turned back to the good side before the end. And you, Kyp, would be dead today if the Jedi Order did not believe in redemption."

"That's true," Kyp agreed. For a moment, there was a hint in his eyes of the ashamed young man he had once been, but it faded quickly. "But nobody's proposing making the Test life or death. It's supposed to help people. We'll assign mentors or peer counselors to help people return to the light."

"And what if they fail again?" Luke asked. "Say, we retest them in 3 months, and they're still red. What then? Continue monitoring and mentoring? Or go to plan B? Kill all the reds? Root them all out? If we make this Test the public answer to the problem of preventing the next Caedus, the public might demand it. But doing that will sow fear in the ranks. Paranoia about the Test. And fear leads to the Dark Side. It may well be counterproductive."

"Why do you keep saying people will be killed?" Kyp asked. "Nobody's proposing that."

"Nobody's proposing that yet," Luke said. "After the first spectacular failure, they will be." Luke's gaze abruptly unfocused. He stood up absentmindedly and went to gaze out the window, without really seeing it.

It was later—the Masters' Council chamber was empty except for Luke and Jaina. Perhaps it was the same day he had died in this vision before, after the lightsaber fight. It was evening, and the pink light was fading from the sky. Instead of stars, there were the endless streaming lights of Coruscant's air traffic.

"I know why you're here," Luke said to Jaina. He was standing at the window, just like he was doing in real time.

Jaina said, "When you predicted this, I didn't believe you." She walked to the middle of the room. "Turn around, Uncle Luke. I want to say goodbye."

"You sure you want to look me in the eyes first?"

"I'm sure. Turn around."

"OK." Luke walked over to her. They stood in the middle of the room for a moment, surrounded by empty chairs.

"Good-bye, Uncle Luke, Grand Master Skywalker."

"Good-bye Jaina, Sword of the Jedi. May the Force be with you."

Pain flickered on Jaina's face for a moment, a down-turning of the mouth, a flare of the nostrils, a frozen unblinking look in her eyes as she fought off tears. But then she controlled herself.

Luke turned around and knelt down facing away from her. He put his hands behind his back. In a voice so soft she could barely hear him, Luke murmured, "Make it quick. They say a person remains conscious for a few seconds after a beheading. So please pith me in the brainstem so I'll die instantly."

Instead of an unfeeling OK, Jaina said, "I'm going to be sick." She stepped to the side for a moment. She groaned and said, "I did that to J-- to Caedus."

"Oh. I'm sorry," Luke whispered.

Jaina came back over, and pushed his head forward to give her a clear shot at the brainstem. The snap-hiss of a lightsaber activating was like a thunderclap after their soft words. The glow chased the gathering shadows around the room.

Then there was nothing but the Light.

"Are you having another vision?" asked Master Tionne.

"Yes," he whispered. He came back to himself by the window in the blue of broad daylight. Then he turned back around, his face gone grey and pained. His eyes looked haunted. "I thought I might be able to change what I had foreseen. But I still saw death. Just without the fight first."

"Whose death?" asked Tionne.

"Mine. I die right over there," Luke pointed to the middle of the room. "Kneeling on the floor with my hands behind my back. Execution style. One quick thrust to the back of the head."

It was Master Cilghal who broke the stunned silence. She rarely spoke in the Council, and when she did, it was almost always about matters of healing, her expertise. But she also had a talent for precognition, and perhaps understood Luke's reports of his visions better than some of the others.

The Mon Calamarian Jedi said, "Because you fail."

"Twice," Luke confirmed. "I've been reluctant to report the contents of my visions, because it makes my objections sound self-serving. But just imagine what this will do to the Jedi Order. In the beginning of the New Order, I WAS the Jedi Order, because I was the only Jedi. There's not a single thing we teach to the apprentices that I haven't had a hand in. This," Luke waved a hand around to indicate the Jedi Order in general, "is what I've built. The New Jedi Order was my life's work. No one is going to be reassured by my death, inside or Order or out of it. This Test thing is going to spiral out of control. Right now everybody's a little suspicious of everybody else, wondering who might turn next. When people stop wondering and think they know for certain, because of the Test, there's going to be tremendous pressure to just eliminate all the problems. And what will the Jedi become? A group of navel-gazers afraid to take any risks or engage the world for fear of becoming tainted?"

"He's right," said an unexpected voice. Everyone turned to look. It was Pey'slor. The Bothan Jedi stood up, and his fur was smooth, indicating that he felt he was in a strong position. "How many Jedi would not be here today if the Jedi Order did not forgive and allow people to be saved? Master Kyp Durron once served Exar Kun, and he came back. Master Skywalker himself once served the Emperor Reborn, and he came back. His son, Ben, served Darth Caedus, and he came back. Tahiri also served Darth Caedus, and Ben saved her, and she came back. The Jedi Order is full of the redeemed. Even me. I never served the Dark Side, but I was an enemy of the Jedi Order when Master Skywalker first met me. How many of today's Jedi would have died as young children if Master Skywalker had not offered me a way to change sides and join the Jedi?" Pey'slor looked each Master in the eye, his body language screaming strength. "I offer a compromise. Instead of a public Test, and counselors assigned only to those who failed, and an innate pressure to perform or die, why not assign a peer counselor to everyone, and make the test private and confidential, known only to those two? Then it could be used to identify people with problems and help them, without opening the door to violence."

Luke blinked. "What an excellent idea. Thank you, Pey'slor. I never expected you to be my strongest supporter."

Pey'slor nodded, and his fur ruffled briefly. He was about to spring something.

Luke thought, 'here comes the Bothan trap.' "Ah. But you're not trying to support me, are you? You're about to ask me to step down."

"For the good of the Jedi Order," Pey'slor said. "It should be led by someone clear."

"Someone untainted," Luke said. "You're probably right, actually."

"Wait," said Kyp. "I've always been the second in command here."

"Only because you broke away during the Vong War and took a lot of the Order with you," said Pey'slor, "and when you and Master Skywalker started working together again, it was like two great kings making one kingdom. But you are not clear either. If the Jedi Order needs to be led by someone untainted by the Dark Side, that person is not you, Master Durron."

"I left that behind years ago," Kyp objected. He stood up too, and suddenly everyone in the Council was standing, and coming to stand by one or the other of them, like some kind of caucus.

Everyone started shouting. The words "redemption" and "dark side" echoed around the room.

Then one voice carried over all of them. "Hold. Hold!" It was Luke. "Everyone sit down and take turns talking. The Masters' Council is a place of civilized debate, not a cantina."

Chastened, the Masters sat. The Barabel, Master Sebatyne, said, "I think Mazter Szywalker haz juzt proven he iz the right one to lead usz. We do not need factionz here. The Jedi hunt beszt when we hunt az one pack, with one hunt leader."

Mutters of "hear, hear" and "well said" never rose in volume; the Masters were staying civil for now.

"There are two matters before us," Luke said calmly, as if he were discussing nothing more consequential than the Councils' usual budgetary concerns. "Pey'slor's proposal for the use of the Test has my approval. It's a good compromise between those who want to use any tool we can to prevent the rise of the next Caedus, and those who, like me, see disaster down the road if the Order starts to eat itself. As for the question of leadership, I have no intention of resigning as Grand Master after seeing how quickly this Council disintegrates into chaos when I'm not leading it. Somebody has to make sure these meetings actually run. But I have another compromise. Because the confidential program for the Test was Pey'slor's idea, and he clearly has thought it out in detail, I propose that Pey'slor be in charge of that program. All in favor?"

All of Pey'slor's supporters fell in behind him in support of Luke's proposal, but it was not a straight factional power-grab vote, because a great many of the other Masters voted for it too, after an interval of more debate. Even Kyp, in the end.

Luke smiled for the first time after the vote. "I hope we've averted disaster today. Meeting adjourned."

A few of the Masters got up to leave, while most hung around to chat, but before anyone got to the door, it opened, and Piekke walked in.

Instantly, the Masters all quieted.

"Piekke," Luke said, smiling and holding out his eyes. "Welcome, daughter."

Piekke grinned and hugged him, and then backed up and looked at the rest of the Masters before continuing. "We've all been following the debate. Everybody was so afraid that we convinced Ongreya to bug the Council chamber. We've all been out in the corridor watching on the Jedi subcast."

"Wonderful," Luke said, rolling his eyes. "Who's 'we all'? I didn't realize you were even here."

"Lots of Jedi. I don't really know any of them, I just got here."

"I can see by your face that you went back to your people for a time."

Piekke touched her face in a gesture that almost looked like a man stroking his beard, thumb and index finger to the sides of her mouth, touching her newest tattoos: the vertical columns of a Dark Lady.

"You were right about the sycophants. But better them than certain death. Everybody out here is whispering out rooting out the Sith in their midst. They don't have to look far to find one when I'm around."

"But you decided to stay? Because of the vote?" Luke asked.

"Yes. I decided to stay. For now. But if your terrible vision comes to pass, I'll have to leave, for my own safety. I don't want to go back to my people. But the Sith offer freedom of conscience. They don't care if someone follows the Darkness or the Light. It's live and let live with them, because of the Queen. And the Jedi Order isn't about to make a unilateral war against Sith-ta, a Galactic Alliance ally. So I'd be safe."

"That's the best argument yet for not letting the Test turn into a witch hunt. The last thing the Jedi Order wants to do is drive people to take refuge with the Sith."

Luke looked up at the ceiling as if looking for the bug. "And now, I think I'd better have a little talk with Ongreya."

And, he added silently to himself, go to my meditation chamber/ office and have another vision. And see what fruit grows from what we planted today.

Luke reflected, his visions had become so powerful it was like altering time without any of the consequences. He could play out alternate futures until he found a good one, and it didn't tear up the fabric of the space-time continuum, or play havoc with his memories.

"Oh—Piekke. Did you ever get your memories back?"

She shook her head. "No, daddykins. Ongreya says it wasn't a time ripple effect. She says I've been mind-rubbed. They're never coming back."

"Oh. Of course. Ongreya's been with you this whole time, hasn't she?"

"Yes. You would have laughed to see how her eyes gleamed when she was following me around a Sith mercenary encampment with her subcasting hat. That's a place a Jedi doesn't usually get to go."

A corner of Luke's mouth turned up. "The Jedi subcast?"

"The Psy-Healer subcast. It was about me and my mind."

"Ah."

"By the way. I still have the comm unit the Queen used to contact me with. She called me as soon as Ongreya's special report aired. To ask me if it was true."

Luke stiffened. Queen Dije might well suspect who and what he really was. And if so, she might send more assassins.

"I said yes," Piekke said. "It was all essentially true, even if it didn't really play out exactly as Ongreya arranged it."

"From a certain point of view," Luke said in a dry, ironic tone.

"Yes."


	4. Chapter 4

Grace Notes

Chapter 4

Luke pushed through the throng in the hallway. Out of the corner of his eye, he recognized Jaina hanging out with Ongreya in front of a portable holo unit. He actually pushed Tahiri out of his way, which a heartbeat later he realized was probably not the galaxy's best idea, but the scarred woman had not reacted.

He had to get to his meditation chamber and have another vision. He had to see what he had done today. He had to see if he was going to live or die.

He closed the door of his office and sank into a vision without bothering to sit down or even turn on a light.

It was much, much later. He was old again. Not as old as before. Ten years older, perhaps. Or perhaps not; perhaps, like Palpatine, he had ruined his looks using Dark Side energy. That would account for the red lightsaber in his hand.

Swoosh! He ducked, grabbed his opponent around the knees and knocked her off her feet. She Force-punched him back and sprang up, weaving her lightsaber in a complicated pattern meant to make it hard to parry.

Jaina. He was fighting Jaina again. And she had that look in her eyes.

Sizzling as they clashed, humming as they swung, the lightsabers moved back and forth as if they had minds of their own, their wielders sunk deep in the Force and anticipating their opponent's every move.

It looked almost like a dance, despite the occasional knocking over of a chair. Luke was too busy to figure out where he was, but wherever it was, it had a computer terminal like on the bridge of a ship, and he was standing on it. In the next instant, Jaina's violet lightsaber swept through the air where he legs had just been, and Luke was somersaulting to the white deckplates. As old as he was, the Force was with him stronger than ever, and he was as acrobatic as in his youth.

Jaina struck a glancing blow off of Luke's artificial hand, throwing up sparks but not affecting his fighting ability. Luke backed up and nearly tripped on something softer than a chair—a dead body, he realized. Jaina scored on him again as he regained his balance, and took a chunk out of an odd place on his left arm just above the elbow, as he reeled for just a moment.

But then he saw an opening and thrust right at her. He snapped forward, almost toppling the other way, and put all his weight behind the blow. Jaina blocked but it slid up her blade with his weight, making an odd singing sound as the blades ran against each other. The thrust went through her pectoral muscle and out her back. A couple of inches to the right and it would have gone straight through her heart.

There was a sucking sound as her left lung collapsed. Jaina fell to the ground, staring up at him with round eyes as she gasped. Her grip on her lightsaber relaxed and it rolled out of her grasp.

She looked like she was dying, but Luke could sense her strength in the Force. If she went into a healing trance, she would recover. Assuming he didn't kill her while she was helpless, of course.

Luke recovered his own breath, and his balance, standing looking down at her. He lowered his blade.

That was the moment Jaina had been waiting for.

With his lightsaber out of position to block, Jaina raised her hands and her fingers stuck out stiff and straight. Luke had only a split second to realize his mistake before Jaina opened up on him with Force-lightning.

He absorbed it and cast back at her, and for a long minute they were locked in Lords' combat. Luke's attention narrowed to nothing more than Jaina's eyes.

And that was when someone else stuck a lightsaber through him from behind.

For just one moment, he looked down at the tip of a lightsaber exiting his chest. It was yellow. The precise shade of Ongreya's lightsaber. Ongreya killed him?

His sight went. All the world was swallowed by blackness, but he could still sense Jaina's presence in the Force.

Somewhere inside him, he heard a voice say, 'You promised me immortality.'

Who was that? Luke? The Luke who belonged in this timeline? Who belonged in this body? Were Luke and Lord Luke splitting apart under the strain? Was that even possible?

'We're going to be with Mara,' he told that part of himself that was not ready to die.

But his inner voice wanted to go on living. And saw only one way to do it.

In his last moment, with his last strength, with his dying breath Luke reached out in the Force to Jaina. She was entering a healing trance, barely conscious now and oblivious to what he was doing.

He used the power of Darth Plagus the Wise. In all his years as Lord Luke, and as various Darths, Luke had never used this power the way Darth Plagus had. He had used it to multiply the midichlorians in his blood, to increase his own power, in shell after mortal shell.

Now he used it to create life. An egg in Jaina's womb doubled on itself and made a sort of clone.

Luke himself slipped away in that instant. All his consciousness was gone from the world. But all his will to live, all his power, and all his passion, poured into Jaina and curled up in an angry red ball in her belly.

Luke could not see past his own death. His visions always ended there. But he did hear some echoes, this time, of voices from the future. Jag's voice: "Is it Zekk's?" And Jaina's: "how much?" Luke caught a glimpse of her standing in an ally in the lower levels of Coruscant, cruising for a surrogate to whom to transfer the inexplicable Sithspawn. Jaina, erasing the black-market slave's memories. Down that path lay the Dark Side.

Luke came awake in total darkness and panicked. For a moment he thought he was dead, and everything he had just seen had come to pass.

Then he remembered he was in his windowless meditation chamber inside the Jedi Temple, and switched on the light.

Small, spare room. Metal desk. Military surplus chairs. Just his office, after all.

Luke sighed. He had to change something. That was not a future he wanted to see again.


	5. Chapter 5

Grace Notes

Chapter 5

"Thanks for leaving off your hat," Luke said to Ongreya as she entered his office. "I need someone to talk to, but not everybody in the galaxy." He shut the door and gestured her into a chair.

"Everybody knows you predicted you're going to fail the Test."

"Not everybody knows I'm a thousand year old Sith Lord wearing a new body."

"Uh—oops. They do now," Ongreya said. There was a wicked delight buried beneath her attempt at sounding apologetic.

Luke stared, stricken. His mouth hung open. He sat down heavily on top his desk. Then he whined, "But you don't have on your subcasting hat!"

"My hat was obsolete," Ongreya replied. "I got a better rig, with newer technology. When I'm wearing my human seeming, I put it in my hair where my hat used to go. In my natural form, like now, I wear it as a brooch."

Luke stared at the somewhat gaudy looking brooch on her lapel. It was an oval with metal rays like fringe. And in the center-- Sure enough, that was a camera eye and microphone.

"Then it's all over," Luke whispered. "This is the day that I die."

"Now, that's not at all necessary," Ongreya said. "I heal with truth. It isn't meant to harm you. Perhaps you should explain to the viewers that you did not mean you're somebody else. You were born Luke Skywalker and so you remain."

"Yes, that's true," Luke agreed.

"And you've lived your own life over and over, time traveling, trying to get the future to come out right."

"Yes."

"Now everybody knows. Poisonous secrets contaminate everything they touch. You couldn't really come back to the Light as long as you were protecting your true self from being known. Now you can begin to heal."

"Heal. Right. In the visions where I saw that I would fail the Test, I also saw myself die. A little hard to heal if I'm dead."

"Tell me about your visions," Ongreya said. "Are they effects of time travel?"

"I suppose," Luke responded, a little distractedly. "But I don't alter the past anymore. I only did that until I got the future to come out right, and this is the future, and it's right, so I'm done."

"Right meaning Caedus is dead," Ongreya prompted.

"Right meaning Ben is alive and didn't turn into Darth Soldati. And Darth Caedus is dead, and I'm not Darth Vengeus, Emperor of the Galaxy. Oh no, Ongreya, you're exerting your Psy-Healer power on me again, aren't you?"

"Sometimes my patients need a little prompting."

Luke jumped off the desk when the door opened unexpectedly. His hand was halfway to his saber before he recognized the unannounced visitor. "Pey'slor." Luke let his hand fall to his side.

Ongreya pivoted in her seat to follow the action of the newcomer.

"I'm a subscriber," Pey'slor said to the camera. "I recognized Master Skywalker's meditation chamber."

Pey'slor turned to Luke, but kept his body blocked to the camera, playing to the audience. He had never looked more strong and confident. "I was actually going to suggest doing your Test and counseling publicly, since you already told everyone you expected to fail. It might be reassuring to everyone to watch the process. To watch you return to the Light."

"Doesn't this change everything?" Luke asked.

"It explains everything," Pey'slor said. "You seemed to change overnight. One day you were ready to murder Caedus, so full of anger you crackled. The next day you were weary and wise, determined to take down Caedus but completely detached from everyone. From the other Jedi, from your late wife, even from Ben. It's like you became an Old Order Jedi between one day and the next, and then you started having those visions. Talking to the wall or window a lot, when you spoke to anyone at all. The explanation that it all happened because you went out and gave yourself to Piekke for the purpose of reassuring yourself you could still save Sith from the Dark Side just didn't ring true."

"So what now?" Luke asked.

Pey'slor stood even straighter. His body language radiated supreme confidence. This was the moment a Bothan lived for: the moment when the big leader followed his lead.

Pey'slor gestured to Ongreya. "Ongreya is your Path Partner. I'm assigning all the Path Partners; the announcement of how it's all going to work and who the Partners are going to be is coming up as soon as I work out all the details of the Partners system and come up with a complete list. Everybody else's Partner sessions will be confidential, but not yours. Yours will be subcast on Ongreya's Jedi Subcast, and we'll all watch you return to who you were meant to be. The public will be reassured that the Jedi Order has everything under control and you're still the hero everyone wants you to be, and the other Jedi will be reassured that the Test is not going to wreck anybody's career or be a threat in any way. It'll all be perfect."

Bothans did not exactly preen, but Pey'slor came close to it. Luke retained the title of Grand Master, but it was clear who was in charge here.

Luke let Pey'slor have his fun. Luke didn't really care for the power of being Grand Master; he was just convinced he was really the best person for the job.

"Alright," Luke said.

But that was not the end of the interruptions. There was a polite knock on the door. It turned out to be Piekke, wide eyed and holding out a commlink.

"Daddykins," Piekke breathed. "Queen Dije called me. She wants to talk to you."

Luke nodded.

"He's here," Piekke said to the commlink, switching into the court language, Ancient Sith.

"Lord Luke?" Queen Dije asked.

Luke considered all the possible ways he could respond, and decided on the most honest one, possibly still under Ongreya's influence. "Darthe-nir."

"You acknowledge that," Dije said, still speaking Ancient Sith."

"Yes, it's me, the Time Lord. If Jaina doesn't kill me, your next assassin will?" Luke asked.

"I need to ask you a question."

"What's she saying?" Ongreya asked.

"Ask your question," Luke said in Basic.

Dije responded in the same language, although she was a little rusty, so her words slowed down a bit. "Why didn't you alter time to keep your secret?"

"Oh. You must have been watching the subcast too."

"The whole Sith Court watches the Jedi subcast. I subscribed, and we all watch it on the throne room holoprojector. It's the only working holoprojector on Sith-ta. Some mercenaries brought it back, used. Probably pirated, I suppose. We watch holodramas on it, too." There was a brief pause. "Answer me, Lord Luke. I know you have the power and the skill to go back in time just a few minutes and keep Ongreya's subcast from going out. Why didn't you?"

Luke turned away for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

Ongreya stood up and followed him half around, so she could get his profile on camera instead of his back. But he turned around again, facing toward the microphone pickup on the commlink, as if he had forgotten Dije could see him on Ongreya's subcast, although he could not see her. Ongreya paced back to the wall to take in the whole scene.

"Because if I do that, it would be… I altered time to save Ben. To save his life, and then to save him from the Dark Side. I altered time to try to save Mara's life, then had to do it again and put the timeline back the way it was when my changes messed up everything else. I altered time to try to prevent the rise of Darth Caedus, then had to undo that when it resulted in losing the Vong War. I altered time to save my own life a few times, but only when I was still working and setting everything right. When I hadn't gotten finished."

Luke looked at Ongreya then. Not at the camera, but at the Psy-Healer herself. His Path Partner, the one who would help him back onto the right path to remain a Jedi.

"When Queen Dije sent Piekke to kill me, it was because my altering time was doing bad things to the fabric of the universe. Every time I changed something, it was a terrible risk. If I take that risk, the risk that I might permanently damage the space-time continuum, even destroy the universe, just to save my own life, then that would be the ultimate act of selfishness. If I did that, then I really would have turned to the Dark Side. I won't do it."

"Then you choose the Light," said Ongreya.

"Yes. I am a Jedi. Even if it costs me my life." Luke's hand twitched a little, as if with a body-memory of the day he tossed away his lightsaber aboard the second Death Star, and said 'I am a Jedi' to the Emperor.

"Then you are healed," Ongreya said.

Pey'slor beamed. He was undoubtedly planning to take credit for that.

Queen Dije said, "Then I rescind the declaration of outlawry. I will send no more assassins. Unless I feel a time ripple again."

"There will be no more time ripples," Luke said. "It's over."


	6. Chapter 6

Grace Notes

Chapter 6

"When he said 'public', I thought Pey'slor meant 'on Ongreya's subcast'," Luke whined.

The Masters' Council room was lined with people of all species. The Masters themselves were on their accustomed seats; only those who were off planet on some mission of dire importance were absent on this day of reckoning. Behind them stood a grim array of cloaked forms.

Well, OK, Luke told himself. Behind the Masters stood a large number of Jedi in their uniforms, which included cloaks. But few of them looked particularly grim, really. A lot of them looked as excited as children at a carnival, which was really not very dignified for a group of Jedi. And it only seemed like it was half the Jedi Order. Half the Order wouldn't've fit, anymore; it had grown, and that was something Luke could be proud of.

There was one face bearing a flat-lipped, wide-nostrilled expression of dread, though: Jaina's. Luke accidentally locked eyes with her, and she shifted into a defiant stance, hands on hips. When she first started moving, for a split second Luke thought she was going for her saber, and he stopped in mid-stride, his hand twitching, before he went stiff with the effort to keep from drawing. He had had far too many visions of his death at Jaina's hands.

"Don't look at Jaina," Ongreya advised him cheerfully. "Fear is also a road to the Dark Side, you know."

"Yeah, yeah." Luke continued to the center of the room and tried to look Grand Masterly.

Ongreya turned slowly in place, panning the room with her new brooch camera.

Pey'slor stepped forward. "As you all know, all the other Tests will be confidential, but we're all here to see, not just how Grand Master Skywalker does, but how the process works. Each person's Path Partner will perform their Test, since only the person involved and their Path Partner will know the results."

A young Jedi came forward from the circle to give Ongreya the equipment, which consisted of two scan paddles and the projector device. Ongreya fiddled with the device, which was really quite simple to operate, probably to give her audience a good look at it.

"You'll be fine," Ongreya told Luke. "I said you were healed, didn't I? Try not to look like you're about to be hanged. How silly would I sound if I said I won't let anything happen to you?"

Luke smiled a little. "To tell you the truth, Ongreya—and what else can anyone do when you're around—I couldn't feel more humiliated if I were about to appear on the Prostate Exam Subcast."

Ongreya snorted an approximation of human laughter. In her natural green skin, it was not quite as convincing as it would have been if she had assumed human form. "Relax and this won't hurt a bit."

He rolled his eyes and dryly intoned, "Thank you."

Ongreya held up the scan paddles on either side of Luke and pressed the activating button. The device scanned him and beeped to indicate it was done. Ongreya stowed the paddles and watched as the machine built a wire-frame image of Luke's body.

Then the aura glow filled in. Blue.

"Blue," Luke said, amazed. "I passed."

Ongreya stepped back to get a good shot of Luke and the scan image before turning off the machine. "Of course you passed. I healed you. I'm never wrong about these things."

Some of the assembled Jedi cheered, and others let out a sigh as if they had been holding their breath.

Pey'slor came forward again. "Congratulations to both of you." He turned to Luke and actually shook his hand, which was an unnatural gesture for a Bothan, but would resonate with the viewers of the Jedi subcast. "I am pleased to declare your success and to reconfirm you in your role as Grand Master of the Jedi Order. Let none challenge you now."

"Uh—thank you, Pey'slor," Luke blinked. He saw exactly what Pey'slor had done: he had made himself the Jedi kingmaker. The power of the Grand Master flowed from Pey'slor's hands, making him, de facto, more powerful than the Grand Master. He had outmaneuvered not only Kyp but Luke himself as well.

It didn't matter, Luke told himself. This was not the court of the Queen; his life did not depend on tiring threat-and-counterthreat games of dominance anymore, and he did not need to respond. Perhaps later, when the camera was turned off and they were alone, he would remind Pey'slor that if the Bothan as power behind the throne wanted to take credit for Luke's future accomplishments, he should remember that Luke as founder of the New Jedi Order and teacher of most of the Jedi, including Pey'slor, Luke could take credit for all the accomplishments of every Jedi. Then again, given the recent horrifying deeds of Darth Caedus, who had once been Jacen Solo, perhaps Luke should not take responsibility for the actions of all his students.

In any case, the moment passed, and Pey'slor was showing his good side to the camera. It seemed that Pey'slor cared a lot about his public image beyond the Jedi Order. Was Pey'slor about to enter the political arena? Borsk Fey'lya, watch out, here's an up-and-comer.

Suddenly there were a lot of hands reaching for his. People were congratulating him, sincerely this time, without ulterior motives.

A certain short, red-haired human—well, not so short anymore, how tall was he now?—was saying, "Congratulations, dad."

"Ben."

Luke couldn't help it. He knew the boy wanted to act like a man, but he was too relieved to hold back. He pulled Ben Skywalker in for a hug. It was not just that Luke was relieved that he had passed the Test, although that was important. It was that somehow, he knew he was going to be in the clear from now on. He was not having a vision of the future. He just knew he would never go back to the Dark Side.

"Aw, OK, OK," Ben whined exactly like Luke.

"My turn," said Leia, pulling Ben away and embracing her brother.

Ben grinned sheepishly in gratitude.

"Me too, me too." That was Piekke, and after her example, a number of Jedi rushed in with their arms out.

Luke felt loved. The only thing that could have improved this moment would have been if Mara were there.

Luke felt iron against his chest and looked down in bewilderment at his latest hugger. "Dije? What are you doing here?"

"I'm on Coruscant to sign a treaty with President Daala. I couldn't miss this."

"They let you in?" Luke razzed, glancing around at the assembled Jedi.

"Hey, I'm a Jedi, too, you know," she replied. "Besides, what could they do? I'm a visiting head of state about to conclude a treaty of alliance. It wouldn't do to stick my head on a pike."

"I don't think we have any pikes," Luke teased. "It would have to be ostentatious statuary."

Dije grinned and yielded her place to the next hugger.

It was Jaina.

For a moment Luke was too shocked to register the tears flowing down her cheeks past her smile. Then he realized, even though he never reported who killed him in his visions, Jaina must have known it was her job. She had probably been wondering whether she could take him out if she had to.

"Hey, it's OK," Luke whispered.

And it really was. It was OK. He was OK, his family was OK, the Jedi Order was OK, the universe was OK, the future was OK. He had won.

This time, it was really over.

The End


End file.
